Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Since it was requested by everyone that reviewed I decided that what the heck? Let's try it. So please, please, please review. Please?


by Miranda Panda-chan

The first girl to flirt with him got a broken nose, and the first boy to flirt with her at the mansion got a broken nose, a dead leg, and his eyebrows burned off: but now everyone knew better than to flirt with either, because it was well-known that she belonged to him, and he belonged to her and only her.

"So, I heard you like playing with fire?" the girl's sickeningly sweet high-pitched voice irritated him to no end. And that was the corniest pick-up line ever. Not to mention, wasn't she a bit gender-confused. He was the one with pick-up lines, girls just didn't do that. It was just weird and awkward, and it kinda disgusted him because it just was so wrong in so many ways that he couldn't even describe because there weren't words fit to use.

Tch, whatever. He flipped his precious Zippo shut for the fifth time since her arrival, the lid coming down with a bit more force due to his growing irritation. Didn't she know when to stop? Or was her little voice in the back of her head broken? Maybe it was just her head that broken. Yeah, that had to be it. He'd ask her if he didn't think there'd be a worse pick-up line following his question that was meant to be hurtful and sarcastic and biting because this idiot just couldn't seem to catch on to when she wasn't wanted.

"Don't you have somewhere to be, Amara?" he growled, looking around for that damned girl that he would bet his Zippo on was watching and laughing as he endured this torment for the sake of not wanting to get up and losing his pride by running away from a stupid little girl. True, she was the same age as Rogue, who was only two years younger, but still…it was the principle of the thing.

"The only place I'm required to be is where you are." God, just gag him already. She batted her eyelashes, leaning in his direction ever so slightly as her skirt hitched up inches above mid-thigh. Her blonde hair hung around her shoulders, framing her face with perfect little ringlets. She'd be pretty, he guessed, assumed rather, if she didn't have face caked in so much make-up. Her eyeshadow was darker than he thought it could possibly be and the dark teal of it clashed horribly with her bright red lipstick. Basically, all in all, she looked like a cheap whore. Especially with the boots…he'd admit, those boots were the only reason he hadn't roasted her to ashes. Whorish as they looked with the rest of the ensemble of her outfit, those boots were sexy. He could only imagine them on someone else…a certain southern.---no. Stop. Just stop.

"So? Like anything you see?" she asked provocatively, puffing her chest out a bit as she smiled at him. He cringed.

Didn't she get the hint that he didn't want her there?

Obviously not.

"Can't you just—mmfgh!" Oh God, she did not…oh she did not just…she did.

"Get the fuck off of me!" he growled, pushing her off. Ignoring the fact that whatever he'd just pushed had been soft and squishy and the satisfied smirk on her face didn't help at all as he berated the situation and cursed at Rogue and prayed that maybe no one had seen that.

"See ya later, Pyro." She said lazily, sauntering off, her hips swinging dangerously with each step, and she really needed to pull the back of her skirt down because it had ridden up, and….Stop. Just stop. He wiped his mouth with the arm of his jacket. Smearing and rubbing hard to get rid of the tingling feeling left there. He spit and coughed and spit and wiped his mouth again for good measure.

"Like your lipstick, Johnny." Oh crap.

"Yeah? Well I don't. How do you get this crap off?"

"Depends on how it got there." She said nonchalantly, taking her place dutifully beside her best friend, or boyfriend, depending on who you asked.

"Ugh, please don't make me relive it." She giggled at the disgusted face and the indignant look in his eyes. He seemed absolutely appalled.

"So, who's the lucky girl?" she asked, uninterested, staring at her nails with feigned interest.

"Ya know, I just got my mouth raped, could you tone down the bitch-factor?" he asked, wiping his mouth again, licking his lips because of the sudden burn that wasn't pleasant, and then spitting again. She smirked.

"Raped, huh? And here I thought your first time would be consensual." She grinned as he narrowed his eyes at her.

"Shut the fuck up, Roguey." He growled.

"So you gonna tell me who it was, yet?"

"Amara." She nodded, an all-knowing look in her eye with something else gleaming in the background.

"Hey, so are we still up for Laser tag?" she asked, excitedly.

"Just so long as you aren't a sore loser."

"Right back at ya, Johnny." Because both hated to lose.

And she never lost. Ever.

A/N: If anyone has ever read my Teen Titans fic, this one will be sorta written like that. Not as over simplified, but similar. The story has a lot of time skips, so with each chapter, some amount of time has passed, most of the time you'll be informed on how much unless it doesn't really matter. So yea. This won't be a huge story. It's just a one-shot that needs to be split. Thanks. And as always, please review.